


Something To Feel

by Malivrag



Category: Faster Pussycat (Band), L.A. Guns (Band), Rock Music RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Summer Romance, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malivrag/pseuds/Malivrag
Summary: A lazy summer's day, as the nascent Faster Pussycat and something recognizable as L.A. Guns are coming slowly into being.





	Something To Feel

"C'mon, try it. Just once. I won't let you drown," Tracii pleaded as he stood waist-deep in the surf, his bare shoulders browning in the sun.

"I can barely swim!" Taime tried to laugh it off, but deep down inside, he was terrified. Even though they were in a placid little cove and only a few feet from the shore, his subconscious still imagined being dragged into deeper water by a riptide and sinking, down into the inky darkness where no light could reach him.

"I won't let you drown," Tracii told him. "Just lay on the board, okay? I won't make you do anything else."

Relenting, Taime allowed Tracii to help him onto his surfboard. He laid on his back, the tips of his hair wetting as the frothy ocean water came to lap at him; he let his arms dangle, his hands forming little cups. The sun overhead was blinding, so he closed his eyes. The steady weight of Tracii's hands, one on his left shoulder just above the clavicle, the other on his belly, covering his navel, soothed him.

"Okay, there. You got me on your surfboard. Are you satisfied yet?" Taime asked, a smile finding it's way to his lips.

Even through his eyelids, he knew that something had blocked the intense sun from him and that he now lay in shadow. The ocean swelled, and lifted him up; lips touched his. Taime opened his mouth to welcome a hot, seeking tongue. The swell dropped him back down again, and they separated.

"Now I'm satisfied," said Tracii in a smug voice. Taime actually cracked one eyelid open to peer up at him. Tracii was gazing down at him adoringly.

"You're such a goddamn sap," said Taime. He rolled off the surfboard and ran laughing for the shore. He could hear Tracii splashing behind him all the way. They made it to their beach towel, Tracii putting his surfboard down before collapsing next to Taime in a heap.

"Why am I a sap, huh? 'Cause I'm crazy about you?" Tracii asked him.

"You're crazy for being crazy about me. You're a sap because you carefully set up that whole romantic interlude back there," laughed Taime.

"I'm not crazy to want you the way that I do," Tracii told him.

Taime snorted and stuck his tongue out at him.  
Tracii had never been subtle or ashamed of the way he felt about Taime, not since the first day they met. Sometimes, it frightened Taime a little. He'd always imagined his life would be a series of furtive, anonymous encounters in alleyways and grungy bathrooms. He'd never imagined this: them shaking out the beach towel, then walking to the boardwalk with a surfboard under Tracii's arm, the other arm thrown cavalierly around Taime's shoulders.

It was too good to be true. Not for the first time, Taime tried to soak up the moment, really be present and live it. Savor something so good, in case life was never this good to him again.

Taime shouldered Tracii's backpack as they ambled into the neighborhood laundromat. Tracii propped the surfboard up by the front door, then busied himself dumping the contents of his backpack -- a few random clothing items, bandannas, and the beach towel -- into a washer. "You have anything you want me to wash while I'm at it?"

Wordlessly, Taime shed his shirt and handed it over, smirking a bit at the glances he saw the other patrons giving him in their reflections in the shiny metal machines. "Have Paul and Mick been behaving themselves?" Taime asked as he took a seat in one of the rickety wicker chairs that always seemed about to bust in the seat.

Tracii hopped up onto the lid of one of the washers. "Hell no, I wouldn't put up with 'em if they did. They learned from the best." He kicked off his sandals and carelessly pulled off his own shirt, tossing it into the open washer to lay with Taime's crumpled one.

The other people in the music scene couldn't understand why Taime and Tracii stayed such good friends even after Tracii had poached two of Taime's bandmates out from under him. Taime had a hard time articulating it himself: did your left hand begrudge your right hand anything? Of course not, and what Tracii wanted, Taime wanted him to have. It went both ways; when Taime ate until he was sated, Tracii would sigh with contentment, as though the food had nourished him as well.

Tracii undid the top button on his jeans, and the scream of the zipper brought all eyes on them. The other laundromat patrons were openly gawking as Tracii shed his blue jeans and tossed them into the washer. The lid slammed with finality and Tracii hopped down, wearing only his white, nearly see-through boxers. He bent over so that Taime got an excellent view of the curve of his back as he dug in his bag and fetched some quarters. The washer began to shake to-and-fro.

"Have you changed your mind yet about joining my band?" Tracii asked him as he joined Taime by taking a seat on a wicker chair.

"It'll ruin a good thing."

"I think you don't want to do it because you're afraid you'll be too happy," Tracii told him.

Taime scoffed softly. "Okay, Doctor Freud."

"Freud is totally bogus, I like Carl Jung a lot better," Tracii told him.

"Oh wow." Taime laughed. "Something tells me never to underestimate you."

After their clothes finished washing and drying, they made their way back towards Tracii's home. As they walked around the corner, a vision awaited them; a hammock swinging beneath a canopy, a young woman in denim cut-offs and a crop-top laying in the hammock, her curly hair framing her face prettily. In her sleep, she wiggled her bare toes.

She looked like Tracii's twin sister, but she was, in reality, his absurdly youthful mother.

Tracii pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head. "Wake up, mom. We're home."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Oh! My boys!" Tracii's mom sat up and stretched, releasing a yawn. A loose curl fell charmingly across her nose; she batted it away. "God, I am such a fortunate woman. I woke from a dream to something even better."

They ate dinner on the front steps of Tracii's home. Taime loved the cool grass under his feet, the clink of the silverware on plates, even the way the froth poured over the rim of his glass when Tracii's mom poured him a beer. Tracii's mom was right; sometimes waking life was better than dreaming.

They washed up and as the purples and indigos of evening washed over them, Tracii walked Taime back the way they'd came.

"One day we'll play together," Tracii told him confidently. "I always get what I want."

Taime turned to him and said seriously, "You know I'm not the sort of person you can build a life around." He made a sort of motion with his hands, as though trying to indicate on his torso where his unseen wounds were, the scar tissue that was more emotional than physical. His voice cracked dangerously. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you, Tracii."

"I know it's not gonna be like it is in the movies, not for us," Tracii told him gently. "You're not made for one person, and maybe I'm not either. But whatever we can be for each other, I want it. I want to be there for it."

Taime actually gasped, and had to lean against a nearby wall, one hand up to brace himself. Tracii rushed to him. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?!"

"I'll be all right," Taime said. He couldn't express what he was feeling; it was as though he could feel heart tissue regrowing. He blinked hard and leaned in close to Tracii, wedging his face into the curve of Tracii's neck and shoulder. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes," whispered Tracii, as he held Taime close.

"What happened?" Taime thought of Lisa, who was eternally so far away and yet so close, forever walking right beside him, and just out of reach.

Tracii kissed his temple. "I'm holding him."


End file.
